


Watch Your Pecking Language

by PencilSkeletons



Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, bird kids saying bird swears, bird swears, the badge seller is mentioned in one sentance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 21:06:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16415963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PencilSkeletons/pseuds/PencilSkeletons
Summary: The Conductor is not a good influence.





	Watch Your Pecking Language

The Conductor was babysitting his grandchildren today. Actually, the Conductor had plopped his grandkids in front on the TV while he's in the kitchen making a very important phone call with the receptionist back at Dead Bird Studio.

"What do ya mean it won't arrive until next week?" The Conductor yelled into the phone.

"I mean what I said. The new props you ordered won't be here until next week," The Receptionist answered calmly. He was one of the few birds who could handle the director's yelling.

"Well can't you just speed up the delivery! I'm on a tight scedule, and I can't postpone recording any farther back." He heard a sigh on the other line.

"Look, Conductor. I'm just a receptionist. I let people in, keep others out, and answer any questions given to me. I have no control over deliveries. So you're just going to have to wait." The Conductor didn't have time to wait. When he wanted something done now, it would get done now. And what he wanted was the props to arrive tomorrow, not next week.

"Well if you can't do it, then go tell those peck necks to get the delivery done faster! I don't give a peck if they say they can't. Just find out some way so I can finally get to shooting me next movie!" With that, he hung up and slammed the phone on the table. How come nothing's going his way lately? Things have just gone bad ever since he lost Award 42-

The Conductor froze when he saw one of his grandkids standing just outside the kitchen. He had two grandkids who would wear a hat similar to his, but he knew this one was Chekhov. Chekhov would try to sneak into the kitchen and steal the knives ever since the Conductor mistakenly gave him a rubber knife for teething. He was just looking up at his internally panicing grandpa.

The Conductor had been careful what he said around his children and made sure not to curse. But he let a "peck neck" slip out and it's possible Chekhov heard him. His daughter was already mad at him for letting her child near a knife, even though it was fake, but he didn't want to get an angry phone call about how her son's first words were "peck neck".

"Hey Chekhov, let's talk for a bit!" The Conductor scooped up Chekhov in his arms and sat down with him in his lap. "Now as you know, I tend to say and do things without thinking. And as you probably just heard I said something bad. It's like with the knife, you can't say these bad words until you're older. Got it?"

Chekhov didn't answer right away, but he gave a cheep of approval. The Conductor smiles and ruffles the feathers on his grandkid's head. "Great! Now go play with your siblings you little trouble maker." He lets him down, but he doesn't go anywhere. "No, you're not getting a knife. If you go in the other room then I'll join you in a bit with some bird seed." Chekhov smiles and runs off to the living room. The Conductor lets out a sigh of relief.

~~~

One week later the Conductor has forgotten about accidentally cursing in front of his grandkid. He hasn't gotten any calls from his daughter about Chekhov learning any new words. Today he had to watch the grandkids again even though he had work, so he brought them along to Dead Bird Studio and had an couple Express Owls watch over them on his train. Everything seemed to be going great.

Or at least it would've been great until the Conductor got some not so good news from the Receptionist.

"Apparently something went wrong with the delivery," said the Receptionist, already knowing how the Conductor would react. "So it's going to be a bit longer until the props get here."

"How much longer?" The Conductor asks. He clenches his fist on the desk.

"Well... about a month."

"A month! But we need to start shooting now!"

"I'm sorry, Conductor. You're just going to have to wait."

"No, I'm not going to wait! I've been patient enough. I need those props now and I'm not going to cease all work just because some brainless peck necks don't know how to make a simple delivery!" Most of the owls and penguins waiting mostly ignore the commotion, as the Conductor yelling was nothing new.

DJ Grooves, who was waiting behind the Conductor, asks "Can I just step in for a bit, darling?"

"Not now!" The Conductor yells. "I'm in the middle of something."

"It's only going to be a minute. I just want to know if my props arrived today as well."

"Well if mine didn't arrive today then clearly yours didn't!"

"Actually," the Receptionist interrupts. "Your props arrived yesterday, DJ Grooves. I'm pretty sure the penguins already took it into the recording studio for you." The Conductor's jaw drops in disbelief while Grooves smiles.

"Thank you, darling!" DJ Grooves turns towards the penguins. "Alright, Moon Penguins. It's time to start shooting!" He's about to leave when the Conductor grabs him by the back of his jacket.

"Not so fast! Nobody's doing anything until I get me props! That means no filming for you, DJ Grooves!"

Grooves sighs and says "You know, darling. If you can't get what you want in time, then you can simply just shoot the scenes without them. Just because you can't get what you want doesn't mean we all have to be affected by it too."

"I can't just use something else. These new props are critical to me movie. I wrote the script around these things, it's so important. I can't just rewrite an entire script focuded around something I don't have. And then when filming's done and I get the props, they would be wasted!"

"Then you can use them for your next movie-"

"I already wrote the script for me next movie and they don't involve the props, you pe-"

"Get back here!" someone yelled. The three birds at the desk turned their heads towards the sound and saw an Express Owl chasing after a tiny yellow bird in a conductor's hat. Said tiny bird then ran straight towards his grandpa and gave him a big hug.

"Chekhov! What're you doing here? Aren't you suppose to be on the train?" The Conductor shot a glare at the Express Owl. Well, as close as an eyeless bird can get to a glare.

"I'm sorry, Conductor. He somehow got out of the train without any of us noticing." Chekhov was the most sneaky compared to his siblings. The Conductor nearly had a heart attack when he first lost him. He picked up Chekhov and handed him to the Express Owl, only for him to wriggle out of the owl's arms and hug the Conductor again.

"It seems like your grandchild wants you to play with him, Conductor. You could, I don't know, watch him and the others like you're supposed to until they get here." DJ Grooves suggests. "It's not like the Bird Movie Awards are in a month, you know."

"Don't tell me how to raise me grandkids!" The Conductor yells.

"I don't even have children and I know that kids need to spend time with their parents and grandparents."

"I'll look after them when I'm done with this!" The Conductor picks up Chekhov again. "Sorry, Chekhov, Grandpa's busy right now. He'll be done soon. Go play with the owls and your siblings." He hands the owl his grandkid again. The Conductor goes back to yelling at the Receptionist and DJ Grooves as the Express Owl carries Chekhov away.

At the same time, Chekhov just wanted to be with his grandpa. Even if he couldn't understand most words yet, he knew that his grandpa was doing something not important. When Chekhov wanted something, he would try to get it no matter what. Whenever he did something bad or dissapeared, then the focus would be on him. He had to do something other than dissapear to get his full attention. But what could he do?

Then Chekhov remembered the new word he heard his grandpa say last week when on the phone. It was a fascinating word that immediately got the little bird's attention. His grandpa said it was a bad word though. But he's being bad by not being with him.

Chekhov escaped the Express Owl's grasp again and ran towards the Conductor, stopping near him instead of hugging him. He tries to say the word, but all that comes out are a bunch of peeps. The Conductor doesn't even give Chekhov a glance. He tries saying the word again, but it won't come out.

"Come on Chekhov," says the Express Owl. "No more running around the studio. You can run back on the train though. Maybe we could even watch a new movie? How does that sound?" Chekhov takes a deep breath and tries one more time.

"P-p-PECK!"

He says the word louder than he meant to. The Express Owl gasps. The Conductor and DJ Grooves both turn to the child in shock. The Receptionist was just as stunned. The nearby owls and penguins stop and turn to the sound, clearly suprised. Even the Badge Seller, who was there for some reason, was also quite shocked. When no one responds, Chekhov says "PECK!" again.

The Conductor's shock and fear soon boiled into dissapointment and anger. He picked up Chekhov, who at this point was just repeating the word over and over, told the Express Owl he was done babysitting, and left the studio without saying another word. After a few seconds, the owls and penguins went back to their buisness. DJ Grooves turned to the Receptionist and said "You know darling, I should've seen this coming. The Conductor was bound to have a child try to immitate him and his language."

The Receptionist agreed. "Like grandfather, like grandson."

~~~

"Get out!" The Conductor yelled at the two Express Owls watching his grandkids. "I'll take care of them from here." They left quickly without saying a word. The Conductor placed Chekhov on the floor.

"What have I told you about saying that word? It's a bad word! Just because I say it, that doesn't mean you get to say-"

"Peck!" Chekhov shouted. At this point he wasn't saying the word to get his grandpa's attention anymore since he already got that. He was now saying it because it was fun to talk. "Peck! Peck!"

"Chekhov stop that!"

"Peck! Peck!"

"Chekhov I swear if you don't stop then-"

"Peck!"

That wasn't said by Chekhov. The Conductor turned towards his other grandkids. They were looking at the two of them, and now one of them hand gotten up and said the word. Then another said it, and another, until there was a small army of children circling their grandpa shouting "Peck!" over and over.

"Me and my big mouth," The Conductor sighed. He didn't know whether to be angry at them, dissapointed that they've already stooped to his level and they weren't even five yet, or worried about what his daughter would say. He may win first place in the Bird Movie Awards, but the Conductor definitely wasn't winning Grandpa of the Year.

Later that evening, the Conductor got an angry yet expected phone call from his daughter about how her octuplets were cursing and what a horrible influence he was. After an hour of yelling, the Conductor felt the need to drink. He knew he'd regret it in the morning and his kids would probably drink too if they saw him doing it because everyone wanted to be him for some reason, but at this point he didn't care anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small idea I had that I wanted to write.  
> There are probably mistakes since I wrote most of this at 12 AM.  
> I also wanted to give at least one of the Conductor's grandkids a name, so there's Chekhov.


End file.
